


Imagination is the only weapon in the war against reality

by AngryCampfire (StoriesbyNessie)



Series: "Scared Potter?"--30 days of Drarry Prompts August 2020 [16]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 30 Days of Writing, Cuddles, Cute, Draco Loves Books, Established Relationship, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Imagination, M/M, POV Harry Potter, Reading, story time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:29:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25990615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriesbyNessie/pseuds/AngryCampfire
Summary: Draco loves to read. Harry doesn’t but decides to take an interest in Draco’s hobby.Day 17 of my 30 days of Drarry project. Prompt: Taking interest in each other's hobbies
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: "Scared Potter?"--30 days of Drarry Prompts August 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858288
Comments: 3
Kudos: 64





	Imagination is the only weapon in the war against reality

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Murder_Kitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murder_Kitten/gifts).



Draco had taken up reading, and apparently, he loved it. More than Harry had ever seen him love anything else before, in fact. He sometimes suspected he had lost Draco forever to the world of fiction; the man was so engrossed in his stories that he didn’t seem aware of anything else around him. A bomb could detonate next to him, and Harry was sure Draco wouldn’t react at all.

There was something so intriguing with watching Draco read. How his eyes moved over the pages and how his eyebrows creased slightly whenever he came across something in the story that set off an emotion. It could be something that made him confused or angry or anything else. Draco wasn’t one to show feelings, so to see this change in him when he read a book was rather intriguing, Harry thought. He loved it because it was so different, like a little secret. People never got to see Draco like that, except for Harry, and that was something special.

There was only one problem. Draco read too much. Entirely too much. He loved to take refuge to the library and the fireplace in his apartment and would often spend hours upon hours there, which was fine, but a little boring. Harry didn’t like to read. He would much rather listen to the Quidditch games on the wireless or go to watch one live or have movie marathons to wind down after work. Draco didn’t like movies. He especially did not enjoy the Muggle horror movies Harry found that he enjoyed, and it had led to a series of arguments when Harry made the mistake of trying to show Draco one. He’d been frightened, and refused to admit to it and instead been very angry and stressed. It took weeks for it to pass; Harry was only relieved it was now over. Draco enjoyed Quidditch, but the sport had to step back in favour of his reading and all the books he’d started to buy. He didn’t come along to as many games anymore, and even though Harry didn’t say anything about it, it was a little sad.

Since Harry didn’t enjoy fictional stories as much as Draco did, their time with each other was limited. Harry didn’t see Draco enough, not that it could ever be enough. It was probably sappy thinking—the kind of thinking that Draco wasn’t a fan of—but Harry couldn’t help it. He was in love, and he wanted to be around Draco all the time, no matter how much of an evil git he used to be. So, to have more in common with him, Harry had decided that he would try to enjoy books more. It would lead to them having more to talk about, he was sure of it.

Draco was in the library as usual when Harry decided he would try one of his boyfriend’s books. It was a typical, rainy Tuesday afternoon. He was free from work and spent the day in Draco’s luxurious apartment in the more high-end part of the Wizarding World.

Draco had cuddled up in one of the armchairs, not bothering to look up when Harry came into the room. The fire crackled pleasantly.

Harry walked up to one of the bookshelves and scanned the titles. There were so many, and he wasn’t sure where he would begin. After looking for a few moments, his eyes eventually fell upon an older, more battered-looking book at the far end of the row. It immediately piqued his interest, so before Harry knew it, he had grabbed the book and pulled it out.

The cover was green, almost the same shade of green as Slytherin’s house colours. It was a children’s book, judging by the little girl pictured on the front. She was drawn in black and white, but wore a red dress and was surrounded by several playing cards. In pretty writing, Harry could see the title: _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland._

He couldn’t help but grin at that. This was an old, classic fairytale for Muggle children. Draco was a wizard and had spent all his life within the Wizarding world. This was the same person who used to yell _Mudblood_ to Hermione. Draco had grown up with hatred and prejudice towards Muggles; he was the last person in their magical community that Harry would have suspected to own a Muggle book.

_How had he got it?_ Not that it mattered. Harry opened up the book; it was full of pretty illustrations and smelt faintly of grass and vanilla. He might not like to read, but the old book smell was nice. Harry wondered if Draco thought so too, or if he rather preferred the smell of new ones.

_Why are you thinking about what books smell like? Aren’t you supposed to read?_

Harry sighed and flipped back to the first page. He was familiar with _Alice in Wonderland_ but had never actually read the story. At the top of the page was a black and white illustration of the white rabbit holding a small clock in his paw. Not bothering to take a seat, Harry remained in front of the bookshelf. He read the chapter title: _Down the rabbit hole._

_’Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do…’_

“What are you doing, Potter?”

Harry started and turned around, caught. Somehow, without Harry noticing, Draco had moved from the armchair and now stood behind him with a quizzical look on his face. His stormy grey eyes went from Harry to the book and back to Harry again, demanding to know what exactly Harry thought he was up to.

“I…” Harry’s words were caught in his throat. He felt his cheeks redden a bit. “I wanted to read something,” he finally said, hearing how lame it sounded.

“And out of all the books in my library, why did you settle for that one?” Draco asked, grabbing the book from Harry’s hands. “That’s not supposed to be there. It’s private.”

“Why do you have that?” Harry couldn’t help the question tumbling out from his mouth. He was curious and judging by how hard Draco’s grip of the book was, this seemed like a delicate subject. _Would he open up about it?_ Draco was an expert in keeping things to himself, and it wasn’t always that Harry got a reply when he asked a question like this. He could see it was Draco’s cheeks that had a pink tint to them now, so yes, this was a delicate subject.

“Hey, you don’t have to say,” Harry assured him. He reached out to stroke over Draco’s shirt-clad arm, providing comfort.

Draco shrugged in reply. “It’s mine from my childhood,” he said, turning the book in his hands.

“Really? But you were—” Harry stopped himself mid-sentence. He couldn’t say it, that would be too…

“Racist? Desiring Pureblood supremacy?” Draco said, looking at the book. “Yes… I had a Muggle book, and my father despises Muggles more than anything. Why do you think I have it?” Their eyes met, and Harry could see how Draco’s eyes burnt with intensity. It was the look of pure rebellion, and it only lasted long enough for Harry to catch it. It made his heart jump, and when the look vanished from Draco’s face, Harry had so many questions he wasn’t sure where to begin. Or even how to say them.

Draco made it clear he didn’t want to discuss it right now either. With the book still in hand, he turned on his heel. “Anyway Potter, if you wish to read…maybe you’d like to read together? Share the same book?”

“How?” Harry asked, watching Draco’s back. “We read at different paces.”

“Take a seat,” Draco said, casually gesturing to the armchair. “It’ll be cosy to cuddle up together. I’ll read to you, but if you as much as breathe a word to anyone about this, or that I suggested cuddles, I will decapitate you and hang your head on the wall as a trophy. Understood?”

Harry smiled. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

“Decapitation? Wow.” Draco smirked.

“No, to cuddle up and read together.” Harry rolled his eyes.

A half-hour later, their legs tangled together in Draco’s armchair. Their bodies pressed together, and it was hard to tell who was on top of who. Harry enjoyed the body heat; he kissed Draco’s cheek before leaning his head against the man’s shoulder. Draco had his arm around Harry. They shifted and moved until they were both comfortable and then Draco started to read. Harry closed his eyes behind his glasses, enjoying every word.

_’Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it,“and what is the use of a book,” thought Alice, without pictures or conversation…’_

_Fin_


End file.
